I am Elia of Dorne
by princessofwinterfell
Summary: Elia watches as her husband crowns someone other than her as the Queen of Love and Beauty at the Tourney of Harrenhal.


Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. They are George R. R. Martin's. I just toy with them.

Elia stood up, along with the lords and ladies at Harrenhal, applauding Prince Rhaegar's victory at the tourney. She smiled as her husband came trotting along on his snow white horse, holding a crown of blue winter roses in his hand. Around her, the people were buzzing about how wonderfully their prince rode. But Rhaegar shocked them all by passing his wife, only sparing her a small glance. Elia's blood ran cold. Ashara Dayne, her companion, put a hand on her shoulder and said something, but Elia did not hear.

She felt confused. She tilted her head and watched her husband stop his horse in front a young girl, who was mayhaps ten-and-five. She was beautiful, with wide grey eyes, alabaster skin, and long, dark hair. To her right side sat a young man who was not so handsome, with the same grey eyes and dark hair. Rhaegar presented the girl the crown and in his quiet, calm voice, he declared her the Queen of Love and Beauty.

Elia closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, willing herself not to show her anger. Her cheeks burned from humiliation. Her companions and the lords and ladies around her were silent, waiting to see if Princess Elia would do anything. Elia opened her eyes, turned around, and started walking. She felt hundreds of eyes boring into her back and she _hated _that. Her companions followed her and they were silent. _Thank the Seven, _Elia thought, _I hope they stay silent for the rest of the night._ Elia desperately wished she had her brothers by her side. Just the sight of them would calm her down.

Elia quickened her pace, trying to get to her bedchamber faster. _I am Princess Elia of Dorne, future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. I will not let my fool of a husband humiliate me. I may be frail, but my anger is not._ She felt out of breath. Grand Maester Pycelle had told her [not?] to exert herself because of her fragile health. Elia slowed down. The walk seemed to take an eternity, until at last she found her bedchamber. She ordered her ladies to draw a hot bath and find a dress for the celebration feast.

She sighed as she sank into the hot water, feeling relief in her aching joints. Elia rested her head against the copper rim of the tub. _I wish Oberyn were here. He is my best friend and my other half. He could cheer me up and my company wouldn't just be the steam from this bath_. Elia frowned. Ashara began to pick out her favorite dress and she rose from the tub, finding a wool robe to keep her from getting too chilly. She watched as her ladies went searching in her trunks. At last, they found her yellow and orange gown and her ladies helped her lace it up. It was made of Myrish lace and it had a square neckline and long sleeves. Once her ladies began to work on her black hair, Elia murmured, "No, not today. Today, I will wear my hair as I wish, and it will stay loose and free." She sent them away, saying that she no longer required their services this evening.

She told her companions to head to the feast and as they left, Rhaegar stepped in her chambers. He looked handsome, with a red and black doublet and black breeches. Elia's back faced him, but she watched him through her mirror. She locked eyes with Rhaegar, and his eyes widened slightly at the anger in her eyes. "I am ready now, my love," she told him, putting a smile on her face. She turned around and walked towards him. He hesitated slightly as he raised his arm, but Elia wrapped her arm around his as if she were fine.

"You look beautiful tonight," Rhaegar told her, his silver hair swishing slightly as her looked at her.

"Thank you, my prince. You look handsome tonight also."

They stayed silent as they walked to the feast; nothing they could say or do could take away the heavy tension between them. The hall was nicely decorated with the Targaryen banners lining the wall. The wine was already flowing and people were laughing and talking loudly. Elia looked around and saw the girl Rhaegar had crowned earlier. She sat next to Brandon Stark and the name of the girl suddenly came to her mind.

Lyanna Stark.

She'd heard of Lyanna Stark; she was exactly like her older brother Brandon. They were both wild and close. The other boy was Eddard Stark, who kept stealing glances at the lovely Ashara Dayne. She smiled slightly. Elia turned her head and saw her husband also looking at the Stark girl. They reached the dais and she sat down, feeling faint. Food was laid out before her, but Elia picked and moved at her food, not feeling hungry.

Music started playing, and it was time for the victor of the tourney and the crowned Queen of Love and Beauty to dance first. Rhaegar stood and walked over to Lyanna Stark and held out his hand. She smiled and took his hand. Elia could feel Ashara's violet eyes staring and she looked over, trying to summon her best smile, but it wasn't enough. It hurt to watch the Stark girl and Rhaegar dancing. She turned back to them and she saw adoration and lust in Rhaegar's eyes as he danced with Lyanna.

Elia suddenly felt cold in the stuffy hall, and she could feel the love for her husband seeping away slowly.


End file.
